


Lace

by sarai377



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hints of dominance, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarai377/pseuds/sarai377
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frederick and Robin decide to surprise each other with sexy outfits. Porn without Plot.</p>
<p>Frederick/mRobin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lace

Frederick finishes adjusting the toggle on the garter belt and takes a hard look down his body. It is only when he peers at himself in the mirror that he realizes how nervous about this he is.

Heat rises in his cheeks. Why had he suggested this to Robin? What had possessed him, to think this was going to be _fun_? It had sounded fascinating and thrilling when he'd overheard Vaike talking about it, but now that he is wearing it… he isn't so sure. He twitches a cuff nervously, and shifts his feet, fighting the urge to tug on his scant clothing, to relieve the tight press of the silky material on his… sensitive areas. His chest is bare, exposed, the free-standing cuffs and collar soft against wrists and neck. The ends of the leather tie at his neck tickle his collarbone as he moves.

His hands tremble as he looks himself over one more time in the mirror.

It is one thing to dress in armor and go into battle… and another thing entirely to bare himself like this, even if it's just for the man that he loves. In some ways this intimacy is more dangerous… if Robin rejects him now, it will hurt worse than some of the wounds those scars came from. Robin has never rejected him… but he's still nervous about it.

He's never done anything like this before.

“Are you ready, Frederick?” Robin calls from beyond the door. Frederick identifies that anticipatory quaver Robin sometimes gets in the minutes before a battle. That uncertainty makes Frederick feel a little better.

“Yes, I'm ready,” he calls out, and turns from the mirror. “Are you?”

“Frederickson… please come out here.”

Frederick chuckles low in his throat at the affectionate nickname, and moves to the bathroom door. He draws in a deep breath, trying to imagine what Robin has chosen, and on the release of that breath he turns the handle.

Robin looks up from his lounged position on the turned-down bed, heart beating like mad in his ears as the bathroom door opens. When he sees Frederick’s chosen attire, his breath catches, and he rises onto an elbow.

All that bare skin makes Robin even more aware of his own lace outfit, but he focuses on the defined muscles in Frederick’s chest, the way his thighs flex beneath the wide weave of the stockings as he walks toward the bed. He looks powerful and sexy, and to anyone who doesn't know him, the stiffness might appear part of that persona. Robin recognizes his nervousness in the tightly clenched fist at his side, the set of his jaw.

“Frederick…” Robin comes to his knees and slides along the bed, admiring him. What a wonderful suggestion. He's still shocked that it had been _Frederick’s_ idea.

And he gets to spend the whole night with him. The thought thrills him with anticipation.

Frederick stands paralyzed under that intense study, watching Robin’s face for a reaction. The knight clenches his hand at his side, wanting nothing more than to cover up. Even though technically he's not indecent, the clothing he is wearing is not enough. The stockings feel strange against his legs.

A smile breaks across Robin's face, his eyes alight with pleasure and pride, and Frederick relaxes. He finds his own eyes moving down from Robin's, to his pinkened, flushed cheeks, his exposed shoulders, along that slender form accentuated in lace.

Frederick steps forward, aware that he's staring at his lover but unable to stop.

He's… beautiful. The lavender lace sets off his deeper-toned skin, drawing Frederick’s eyes along the scars crossing his slight, powerful frame.

Frederick swallows hard, his breath hitching in his throat, and whispers, “Stand up so I can have a look at you.”

Robin drops his eyes and comes gracefully to his feet before Frederick, hands smoothing down the edge of his garment.

The delicate lace camisole fits him perfectly, hanging from thin satin straps at his shoulders and ending in a slightly flared skirt that hits him mid-thigh, covering up most of his body but leaving flashes of his skin exposed. Frederick can see the swell of his erection beneath the lace, and a soft sound bursts from his mouth at the sight. Under the skirt, Robin must also be wearing a garter belt, because a thin webbing starts above his knees and hugs his shapely legs to his toes. A faint, pleasant scent fills the air as Robin comes closer - he’s wearing a soft cologne for the occasion.

Frederick’s cock grows heavier at the sight of Robin dressed like this, at the blush creeping across his small nose.

“Do… do you like it?” Robin asks, his sudden shyness out of sorts with his revealing attire.

Frederick bites back a groan. “Very much,” he breathes.

Robin smiles, and flicks his dark eyes up for an instant. Frederick wants to step forward and claim Robin's mouth with his own, but he resists because he wants to look at Robin for a while longer. “Lift the skirt up,” he says, and his voice is rough but strong.

Robin's back straightens and his eyes widen, but his fingers move immediately to the bottom edge. He draws the lace up slowly, revealing a small matching thong that barely contains him, and a narrow garter belt a shade darker than the rest.

Frederick sighs with appreciation at the sight. He moves forward and slips a finger beneath one of the straps connecting the garter to the top of the stocking, running a knuckle along Robin's thigh.

Robin's graceful poise has fled him, for his steps are short and unsteady as Frederick tugs him away from the bed. His chest expands against the lace, his breathing faster than normal.

“Stay still,” he tells Robin, and prowls around him, enjoying the view from every angle. There's a silken ribbon laced up the back, enabling the top to cling to his body, and Frederick runs a finger down it. Robin shudders beneath the touch and his back muscles flex. Frederick can tell by the way Robin shifts that he wants to follow Frederick with his eyes, but he holds his head more or less straight.

A thought hits Frederick, and he smiles. “Bend over,” he commands.

Robin looks over his bare shoulder at Frederick, and their eyes meet. For a moment, Frederick thinks that Robin isn't going to do it, but then he turns his head away, and leans forward. The skirt rises, exposing his small round ass… and the lace thong slipping up the middle. Gods, but the sight is wonderful. Frederick’s fingers ghost along his exposed rear and Robin exhales hard, and then Frederick helps Robin stand upright. Frederick is breathing heavy, and Robin is shivering, but neither of them are cold.

Robin reaches out a hand to Frederick’s chest, lightly tracing the largest scar. It is the one that almost killed him, the battle that Robin will never forget, even though it was insignificant to the war as a whole. Robin kisses the scar and then moves his mouth up toward his neck, enjoying the scent and taste of Frederick’s warm skin.

Frederick puts a hand to his cheek and tilts Robin's face upward. His thumb runs along Robin’s lips, dipping between them, and then Frederick leans down and kisses him. The kiss is soft at first and then Frederick deepens it, slipping his tongue between Robin’s lips. One of Frederick’s hands is gliding down his back, pressing the almost-scratchy lace against his skin. Robin arches up into Frederick on his tip toes, the thin fabric caught between them, and then gasps when Frederick’s middle finger traces down his thong, slipping between his legs.

When Frederick draws back, Robin whines, and the pleased look on his knight’s face makes things low in Robin’s body tighten. The knight holds him at arm's length, eyes roaming possessively down his body, and Robin regrets the loss of all that contact. He focuses on the bulge held secure by Frederick’s satin smallclothes, and the way the stockings press softly into his pale thighs.

Robin goes shakily to his knees before Frederick, looking up that long, muscular body. From down here, the view is positively sinful, and he knows that Frederick likes seeing him on his knees. Robin leans in and rubs his cheek against Frederick, and the man’s thighs quiver beneath his fingers as he does.

“Robin,” he exhales, and his hand goes to Robin’s hair, not in a controlling fashion - not yet, at least - but just to touch him.

“What do you want, Frederick?” Robin breathes, keeping his eyes lidded, not looking up, and slips his lips over that warm bulge, still contained in the smallclothes.

“Look at me,” Frederick says instantly, and Robin takes his time, eyes slowly moving until he's met Frederick’s gaze. The hand in his hair tightens and Frederick is breathing hard, his eyes snapping. He looks fierce and strong, and Robin shudders.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Touch me,” Frederick says, and Robin does.

Sensation floods through Frederick as Robin slides a hand across his trapped hardness. The white-haired man kneeling before him keeps his eyes lifted up to Frederick as his thumb and fingers trace his cock.

“Yes, that's good,” he groans, as Robin's other hand gets involved, slipping beneath to cup his balls held tight in the fabric. The pressure builds and wanes, as Robin explores. “Use your mouth now.”

Robin’s tongue darts out between his teeth and he very gently bites on the black fabric and the flesh beneath, still staring up. Frederick breaks from the gaze first, throwing his head back, the soft strands of Robin's hair in his fingers.

Robin hums, and is pleased when Frederick bucks his hips. “You said to use my mouth,” Robin whispers against the fabric, loving how much Frederick is enjoying this. “You didn't say how.”

“Stop talking,” Frederick breathes, but it lacks the strength of the earlier commands. Still, Robin obeys, and puts his mouth against the head of Frederick’s cock, enjoying the satin covering. He rolls his tongue across it, and every subtle twitch and caught breath tells him he's doing all the right things. Frederick is falling into putty above Robin, and when his hips jerk forward again Robin moves his mouth to Frederick’s thighs, nibbling along the edge of the stockings. He swirls his tongue, fingers lightly grazing the back of Frederick’s knee, and lifts his eyes to Frederick, daring him to find fault in what he is doing.

The hand in his hair tightens and pulls him back to Frederick’s groin, and Robin chuckles. “Okay, _Sir,_ ” he teases, in between gentle kisses to that trapped cock that he _knows_ are driving the knight crazy.

Frederick ignores the title the first time, much to Robin's amusement. He continues to lick at the fabric until it darkens with wetness.

“Take off my smallclothes,” Frederick breathes, and Robin pulls away, wiggling back on his knees until his ass is just visible beneath the edge of the skirt. It is intentional, but even knowing this, it still takes Frederick considerable effort to look away from the glimpse of lacey thong. His white-haired lover glances up, licking his lips, and then slips his fingers beneath the silk at Frederick’s groin.

“No,” Frederick says, and gives a light tug on Robin's hair. Robin gasps, his eyelids fluttering down for an instant in what Frederick knows is excitement. “Remove them with your mouth.”

In instant compliance, Robin bites at the edge of the tight smallclothes and pulls down. His nose and teeth tickle Frederick when he loses his grip and fumbles for the fabric again. Robin uses his fingers here and there, but Frederick doesn't reprimand him for that. The satin is tighter than what Frederick usually wears and he's a little impatient, as well.

Robin pulls the undergarment down and then exhales when Frederick’s dick springs free, heavy and hard. Robin is so turned on by the outfits and the anticipation that he instantly turns his attention to it, licking from the base up to the head, flattening his tongue against the sizable girth and humming with approval. Frederick jumps and growls, and Robin glances up as the knight's eyes lose focus for an instant.

“K-keep going,” Frederick says, positioning Robin's mouth back against the edge of the fabric still tight against his body, and Robin makes a displeased noise in his throat. As Robin shifts and tugs, his skin tingles beneath the lace, his own erection largely ignored by Frederick so far - although Robin is painfully aware of it. He works the silky garment down to Frederick’s knees, and then it falls to the floor. Frederick steps out of it and Robin regards the knight's erection, still highlighted by the black garter belt. He leans in and runs his tongue along Frederick’s balls, gentle but confident, and his hand slips around to the other side, palming his rear.

Much as Frederick would love for Robin to stay down there all night, he has other things in mind.

“Stand up,” he commands, his hand rubbing along Robin's jaw.

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Robin says, those dark eyes regarding him as he rises.

“Robin,” Frederick growls, even as he pulls Robin closer. “I know what you're doing.”

Robin stares up at him for a few moments, breathing hard, and then smiles. He leans in, pressing the lace on his thigh against Frederick’s erection, and his hand goes up to the collar. Fingers quest beneath it, caressing his voicebox, and Frederick swallows.

Then he reaches up and captures Robin's wrist, turning him around with a quick, impatient motion. Robin gasps as Frederick places a hand at Robin's neck, holding him back against Frederick’s chest. That large hand slowly moves down Robin's front, to the top of the lace, and then the rough fingers dip in beneath the lace, seeking out his nipple. Robin lets out a soft cry when Frederick finds it already slightly perked with anticipation.

With his other hand, Frederick pulls back on Robin's hip, grinding his erection against Robin’s ass. They both groan this time. Frederick ducks his mouth to kiss Robin's hair. He has a handle on himself again, and Robin is slack and pliant against him, at least for the moment. Frederick palms Robin's thigh, feeling the edge of the stockings beneath his fingertips, and then glides up under the skirt.

Frederick brushes against his cock, gently, and Robin gasps. The heat of his flesh contrasts pleasantly with the texture of the lace. The holes within the pattern are just large enough for sensation, both for Robin and Frederick. Robin trembles and clings to Frederick’s forearm like his legs would give out otherwise.

Frederick smiles when Robin moans his name.

“Lie down on the bed,” Frederick murmurs against Robin's hair, and then lowers his hands from Robin's body. The message is clear - if he wants more contact, he’ll do as Frederick asks.

With a longing sigh, Robin settles onto the bed. His hands grip at the edge of his skirt, rubbing the fabric between fingers and thumb and trying to ignore the insistent throbbing in his smallclothes. The knight walks over with an easy grace, muscles flexing, and kneels on the bed beside Robin. His eyes move down Robin’s body, gaze so heavy he can almost feel the heat.

Robin reaches up and captures the neat little bow at his throat, tugging him down. Large hands land on either side of Robin's head, and the knight's mouth crashes against his, tongue parting his lips, darting between his teeth. It’s so invasive and possessive that Robin groans, and that noise seems to spur Frederick on. He moves from Robin’s mouth to his jaw, kissing and suckling down his neck, his hands slipping along the lace.

Robin glides his fingers against the curves of those powerful arms. His companion seems perfectly content for now to continue with the foreplay, but Robin quickly grows impatient. He shifts a hand down as Frederick nuzzles into his neck, reaching for his own smallclothes. He catches the edge of the lacy garment and gives it a tug, and then pauses. 

“Frederick, I… I think it's stuck.”

_That_ drags Frederick back to his senses. He raises his head from Robin's neck, eyeing the faint red mark he's left there and then looking up at Robin’s perplexed expression.

“What?”

Robin blushes. “My thong…” he whispers, and it almost seems like he’s blushing _more_ after saying the word. This is new, this hesitation… usually it is Frederick who feels uncomfortable in these sorts of situations. He finds it quite charming. 

“It’s stuck,” Robin mumbles.

Frederick kisses the color darting across his cheeks, and then sits up. Robin squirms as Frederick slips his hand down his body, thumbing across his erection and then pulling on the fabric at Robin's hip. It doesn’t move, and he pauses for a moment to inspect it.

He chuckles, and then reaches for the garter belt.

Robin sits up, taking Frederick’s wrist in his own slender fingers. “Frederick?”

“You put it on wrong,” Frederick says, and Robin inspects the garter belt, which has trapped the thong in place.

Robin laughs himself, not meeting Frederick’s eyes. “So I did,” he groans, flopping back down onto the bed. An arm is flung over his eyes, and his cheeks are still dusted pink. “Such a stupid thing to do.”

“It matters not, Robin,” Frederick soothes. “I’m sure you were just...distracted.”

Robin grunts, and Frederick turns his attention to fixing the situation.

With deliberate touches, Frederick undoes the garter straps and pulls down the thong, exposing Robin’s soft skin, feeling even softer after all of that lace. His erection has lessened a bit from embarrassment, and Frederick runs his tongue along that silky length. Robin shudders at the contact, and Frederick reattaches the stockings to the belt.

His arm is still over his eyes, and Frederick gently lifts it, peeking underneath and ducking in for a kiss. He’s smiling when Frederick draws away, and his hand falls to the back of Frederick’s neck, swirling in the shorter hairs. The faint cologne surrounds them again as he breathes in.

“See, love? It’s all fine now,” Frederick says, trying to push all of his pride and eagerness and anticipation through to Robin, make him know exactly how minor this error was. His hand runs down the lace, dipping the skirt around Robin’s reinvigorated cock, and he resumes nibbling at his lover’s neck.

“Ahh, Frederick,” Robin cries, back arching at the brush of lace beneath Frederick’s hand. Only he could turn Robin’s mood around so adeptly, taking a mistake and sweeping it away like it truly means nothing, and in that instant Robin loves him even more for it.

They spend the next few minutes lost in enjoyment of each other’s bodies, until Frederick sits up. His bare chest expands, the cuffs and collar looking obscene and yet so right on him, and his dick hangs heavy and ready beside Robin’s thigh. Robin reaches for it, licking his lips, and Frederick takes Robin’s hand, denying him that touch. A rare, full smile turns the corners of Frederick’s mouth, and Robin finds himself returning it, filling with warmth like he’s bathed in sunlight.

“Turn over, onto your knees,” Frederick commands, and Robin complies slowly, his heart beating faster, his legs trembling.

As Robin looks over his shoulder, Frederick’s gaze lingers on Robin’s ass. His fingers feather across the back of his thighs. Robin says, clearly and deliberately, “Yes, sir.”

Frederick’s eyes flash, and he boxes Robin’s rear in with his larger frame and longer legs, pressing his knees together. In the same motion, he thrusts his cock forward between Robin’s thighs.

“Robin,” he groans, breath hot against the smaller man's spine, and Robin shivers with delight. The sheets bunch up in Robin’s fist as Frederick thrusts again, rutting against him.

Frederick pushes Robin’s chest to the sheets, leaving his ass up in the air. “Stay here, and don’t move.”

Frederick backs away, his fingers trailing along Robin's back like he doesn’t want to stop touching him. Robin feels incredibly exposed without Frederick’s bulk above him, but he stays put.

Frederick leans over the nightstand and opens the drawer, withdrawing a small bottle and some cloth. Frederick’s back is as fit and muscular as his front, although not as marked by battle. Across his back are two long crooked scars, running in parallel. Below the scars, the garter belt and straps highlight the toned curves of his ass, the slight swell before the corded muscle starts in his upper leg. When he turns, his erection stands at attention, and Robin has a moment to appreciate that Frederick is well-endowed, but not too large. He hums softly in his throat as Frederick returns to his position behind him and roughly tugs the lace away, exposing Robin to him even further.

“Are you ready?” Frederick asks, his finger circling Robin’s asshole with faint swirls.

It takes two tries before Robin manages to get the word out. “Y-yes,” he breathes, and then Frederick goes still behind him. Robin shuts his eyes, anticipating the cold lubrication and a brief, mild discomfort. He’s more than ready for the pleasure of Frederick taking him and merging with him, of the look of ecstasy on Frederick’s face as he-

The cold wetness of Frederick’s finger presses at his asshole and he clenches unconsciously, and then relaxes into the touch. The intrusion grows more comfortable, Frederick’s other hand tight on his hip, holding him in position. Robin reaches beneath himself for his own cock, sliding his hand along it to keep that pleasure mounted. Frederick lays kisses against his back, and as he works in deeper, Robin finds himself gasping and then moaning.

The sweet little noises from Robin's mouth make Frederick want to remove his fingers and pound his erection home, but Robin isn’t ready for that quite yet. Frederick adds another finger, gently widening Robin, and then he realizes that Robin is already touching himself. He reaches around and replaces Robin’s hand with his own, causing the smaller man to groan and toss his head along the sheets, eyes rolled back in delight.

Frederick loves watching Robin relax and unravel, probably as much as Robin enjoys working him into a frenzy. It is how they take care of each other, beyond the physical needs of sustenance and sleep - the touch of another human being, the brush of their soul against yours as you both work toward the same goal… Frederick has never experienced it quite like this. When he’s with Robin, the rest of the world seems to melt away. It is all-consuming, and he bends himself to Robin’s pleasure, as he knows Robin does the same for his.

“Frederick,” Robin moans, shifting forward and away from his hand - a subconscious movement, and one that Frederick instantly corrects, releasing Robin's erection to pull him back onto his fingers. Robin yips at the forceful movement, and then grinds his ass against Frederick’s knuckles.

He’s ready. Frederick withdraws his fingers and quickly lubes up his own cock, and then places it at Robin’s entrance.

Robin breathes out, and Frederick presses forward. Robin’s entrance is so tight around his dick that Frederick worries he’s hurting Robin - but the smaller man gasps in what sounds like pleasure, and nods, the signal to continue. Frederick rocks back and forward, slowly pushing his way in, stopping when Robin hisses a quick command. During one of the pauses, he reaches out and gently shifts Robin’s hair out of his eyes, fingers combing through the soft strands, running along his cheek and neck. Robin blinks up at him, and Frederick rotates his hips.

Robin's eye loses focus and he groans, tugging on the crumpled sheet beneath his hand. Frederick thinks the sound might have been his name, but it's lost in pleasure.

“More,” Robin gasps with his next breath. Frederick eagerly complies, knowing he’s got Robin exactly where he wants him.

Just as Robin catches onto his rhythm and starts to rock his own hips back, Frederick pulls out.

The sudden loss of all that contract has Robin squirming, his asshole clenching around nothing.

“Frederick,” he whines, reaching a hand back to the thigh behind him, fingers running along the edge of the stocking.

Before he can rise up or turn around, Frederick catches his hip and flips him onto his back. Robin stares at the man hovering above him, the collar and cuffs white and crisp against his skin. As Frederick takes hold of his legs and maneuvers him into position, Robin is stunned by the contained ferocity in his gaze. He wants very much to shred that self-control, to release Frederick’s feral side.

Robin reaches out and captures his collar. The little bow and strings tickling against his palm, he pulls Frederick down, demanding a kiss. Frederick growls against his mouth, hands gripping his thighs, cock hard and slick atop Robin's own. He grinds them together, and Robin bites back a sharp noise, cock aching with the welcome contact.

Then Frederick slips his cock down, lining up against Robin's hole. They make eye contact, Robin giving wordless permission, urging, practically begging, digging his stocking-covered heels into Frederick’s back.

With one long, deliberate motion, Frederick slides it home, filling Robin to the brim, and Robin gasps, fingernails sharp on Frederick’s triceps. Frederick eases back and then presses deep inside again, changing the angle by drawing Robin's knees upward. Robin's body tightens around him with each inward movement, and the moans tell him Robin is enjoying it immensely. Frederick lets go of one leg and runs his hand down the lace on Robin's chest, ending with a faint brush to his erection. With a snap of his hips, he thrusts _up_ , and Robin gasps, loud and breathy and surprised. _There_. Frederick smiles and repeats the movement, his erection sliding past what has to be Robin's prostate.

Robin flops back against the bed, boneless as Frederick fucks him. It’s a beautiful sight, Robin’s eyelashes fluttering, his erection bouncing against the lace with the force of Frederick’s movements.

And then Frederick takes his cock in hand, no longer teasing, wrapping his fingers around it and applying pressure with his thumb, stroking a strong counterpoint to his thrusts.

“Ahh, Freder _hhhh_ -" Robin groans, and trails off into a low sound, unable to string together the rest of the syllables.

Robin had meant to work Frederick into distraction, but he is the one that has lost focus. Frederick is firmly in control of both of them now, and Robin gives in to that control, trusting Frederick to take charge.

With Frederick’s sure strokes both around his dick and inside of him, Robin finds his body quickly approaching that glittering edge.

“Almost,” he groans, twining his fingers in his own hair, “Almost there...”

“Good,” Frederick grunts, and pauses his hand, gliding his thumb over the sensitive spot just under the head. Robin whines desperately, almost a whimper, twisting his hips and trying to regain that movement, but Frederick holds on. After a few moments,  Frederick resumes stroking, and Robin tosses his head back with a cry.

“Look at me,” Frederick commands, and Robin can’t ignore or deny it, even if he wants to.

His eyes spring open, and he raises his head. Frederick is watching hungrily, a faint sheen of sweat across his brow. It makes Robin feel even more exposed and intimate, watching Frederick watch him.

His eyes move down, and Robin moans at the sight of Frederick touching him. His body tightens. Frederick’s cock feels even larger inside, applying more pressure to that spot within.

Between one stroke of Frederick’s hand and the next, Robin tilts over the edge. Heat floods Robin’s body, and he is swept away on the sensations coursing through him.

Robin comes in Frederick’s hand, his cock pulsing hard as it spurts out. Frederick catches it in the cloth, determined to keep their outfits as clean as possible. Robin’s eyelashes flutter and his gaze slackens, and Frederick has the feeling he’s not seeing anything for a few moments, despite trying hard to keep his eyes focused on Frederick. He’s so beautiful like this, overwhelmed with pleasure but still trying to obey. It makes Frederick rock his hips harder. He keeps his hand working at Robin’s cock until awareness returns to those dark eyes.

Then he sets aside the cloth and reaches for Robin’s hips. He slams his own erection hard into Robin, aware of how close he is himself. The smaller man gasps, his hands flying to Frederick’s forearms.

The slap of skin is a rhythmic counterpoint to Robin’s moans and Frederick’s heavy breathing. Robin wraps his legs behind Frederick, letting all that mesh-covered skin touch him, and Frederick gazes down at the purple lace framing his thin form.

The sight sends pulses through his body, and he feels that pressure build in his balls. With a groan and a hesitation in his hips, he comes deep within Robin. The orgasm radiates from his center to his fingers and toes, Robin clenching around him, drawing out his pleasure.

As the waves lessen, he collapses over Robin, sliding a hand at the small of his back and cradling his head. Robin’s breath tickles the hair in front of his ear as they both relax, the pleasure flooding his limbs with warmth and languor.

Frederick rises onto his hands when their breathing slows, their bodies still married together. With a soft, pleasant sigh, Robin reaches up and brushes his knuckles against Frederick’s cheek. Filled with affection, Frederick kisses that hand, turning the palm in against his cheek.

“I love you.”

“And I you, Frederick,” Robin responds, his voice a sultry whisper. “That was… fun.”

“Mmm,” Frederick answers, gazing over Robin's body. “Very much so. I wasn't expecting you to choose... this.” He slips a finger beneath the scalloped edge at Robin’s chest. “But I like it very much.”

Robin blushes and turns his head away, a pleased smile touching his lips. “Good. It’s not very practical, though.”

Frederick isn't used to Robin being so embarrassed and flustered, so he can't help but tease, “Maybe you could tidy up your study wearing just this.”

“I have a feeling not much tidying would get done,” Robin replies, but his smile expands. He looks back at Frederick after a moment, his eyes crinkling. “Not that I would complain if it didn’t get ‘cleaned’. My study is perfectly organized.”

“You think so,” Frederick says, and slips out, grabbing the cloth and cleaning them both up. When he is done, he moves up to the pillows, resting on his back.

Robin joins him a moment later, snuggling in beneath his arm. He traces circles on Frederick’s chest, finding and caressing each familiar scar. They sit in quiet familiarity for a time, and Robin can hear the fire crackling and shifting in the fireplace. The knight's chest rises and falls beneath his cheek, and his hand goes to Robin's side, rubbing up and down the lace.

“Chrom gave us the night off… What should we do now?” Robin asks, rubbing his stockinged feet along Frederick’s calves.

There’s a glint of excitement in Frederick’s brown eyes as he glances down. Robin’s cock stirs beneath the lace, pressed tight against Frederick’s leg.

“I can think of a few things.” Frederick smiles.

Robin leans in, his mouth brushing Frederick’s throat. Frederick swallows, hard, as Robin says, “So can I…  _Sir_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure if I like this rotating POV, but I really wanted to give it a try. Anyone who's read my other works knows I am a stickler for one POV per scene… but my fanfic writing has been a way for me to experiment and explore writing. I'd really like to hear if you liked the way this was written, or if you found it confusing. 
> 
> A big thanks to Shy for helping me with the concept development, and for working through things with me.
> 
> Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!


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